I am asked to leave. Apparently, visiting hours stopped at 9pm (I was never to leave by that time in all the occasions I visited!). "L" is emotional again and reluctant for me to go. But I have to find a hotel, and a taxi to get me there.
I am directed by a nurse to the A&E reception - I believe she tells they can find me a hotel. I meet four chaps behind the counter – no idea what jobs they do (I never did work out the subtle differences in the white pyjamas all staff wore). They deny they have any such information. However, they ask me why I am around so late. I explain haltingly. Suddenly, they can not be kinder. They phone around the local hotels (although there are none very close to the hospital), getting quotes, and trying to get me a good deal (as I could be staying quite a while).
Over the next 20 minutes, a sheet of A4 paper is transformed into a rats nest of scribbled details and crossings out. Suddenly, two men look up and proudly offer me a hotel for 66 Euros a night. I hesitate, not knowing anything about hotels here at all. They misunderstand; like a clip from a comedy show, they look at each other and say in unison “trop cher!” (“too expensive”). The rats nest fills another piece of paper! Eventually, they find a really cheap hotel, and a reasonably cheap taxi firm. This then is my 4th miracle.
And what a strange hotel it turns out to be. Seemingly everything is made of metal, and painted grey. I later worked out this was to reduce the possibility of a fire hazard. Never mind, it is cheap (ish), and the colony of microscopic insects living behind the tiles in the bathroom are safe from fire.
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